The Doctor's Pregnancy Surprise

So maybe the real Holly was the scary one.

Maybe Holly had turned into her mother, the most formidable woman David had ever met.

‘Our Holls is pretty amazing, isn’t she?’ Siobhan said wryly.

‘Just remind me never to get on her bad side,’ David replied.

Though he didn’t think she could do anything else to him. She’d already put him through the mangle and hung him out to dry.

When David had finished treating his share of the drunken brawlers, he headed for the rest room. He needed coffee. Now.

Holly was already there, curled up with a cup of coffee and a chocolate brownie.

Food. He needed food. ‘Where did you get that?’ he asked, eyeing the brownie. He just hoped the shop was still open, wherever it was. And still had something like that left.

He was disappointed. ‘Zoe from Paeds left it for me. I’m one of her testers for new recipes.’

‘Oh.’

He wasn’t going to ask her for a bite. Even though he was starving.

But it must have shown on her face because she rolled her eyes. ‘All right, all right, I’ll split it with you.’ She broke the cake in two and handed one half to him, with just the hint of a smile.

‘Thank you.’ His head was reeling. This was Scary Holly, the one who’d made the drunken louts behave like lambs. How could she be Nice Holly, who shared her goodies? Especially, he thought when he took his first bite, something as scrummy as this, which any normal person definitely wouldn’t have wanted to share?

‘Enjoyed your first week here?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’ Once he’d got over the shock of seeing her again. But she was being friendly enough to him. He could handle this, treat her as a colleague. Ignore the tingle at the base of his spine every time he looked at her mouth. ‘This shift pattern takes some getting used to, though.’

‘Give it six months, then the human resources bods will come up with another clever idea for us to try.’

‘Such cynicism in one so young,’ he teased.

He’d obviously hit a raw nerve, because her face changed. Became shuttered and cool.

What had he said?

He backtracked, fast. ‘I was impressed with the way you handled that lot out there.’

She shrugged. ‘You get used to it. Most Friday and Saturday nights we get the same sort of thing. It’s just a matter of defusing the situation before things get out of hand. Give them a choice so they don’t feel they’re going to lose face, and they’ll usually shut up.’

‘They could have hit you.’

‘Security were on their way.’

‘You still took a risk.’ A stupid risk, and it made him want to protect her—despite the fact she’d already proved she was tough, not the sweet and gentle middle-class girl he’d known years ago. She didn’t even have that posh accent any more.

‘There’s a little trick that a registrar taught me when I was still a house officer.’ She withdrew the epidural syringe from her pocket. ‘You’re drunk and you’re hurt and the doctor tells you this is what she’s going to have to use for your tetanus booster, because when you’re drunk you need more medication—though if you wait your turn without a fuss she’ll assume you’re sober and use a smaller syringe. Are you going to hit her or are you going to shut up and sit down?’

‘That’s an epidural kit, without the needle.’ David stared at her. ‘And it’s not true about vaccinations. You didn’t.’

‘It was a white lie.’ She grinned. ‘And it worked, didn’t it?’ She finished her coffee. ‘I’d better get back and see how we’re doing out there.’

David gulped his coffee as he watched her leave the room. That smile. It would be so, so easy to forget what had happened between them. To fall for Holly again. She was brave and funny—and beautiful. She’d been pretty as a teenager, but she’d lost that plump ripeness. Thinner, older, with that gamin haircut showing off her incredible bone structure, Holly Jones was beautiful.

But he wasn’t going to let her break his heart a second time.

CHAPTER THREE (#u43aa7374-bf7c-536f-8c6a-1d04a08f2c51)

SATURDAY night was even busier than Friday had been, so Holly barely had a chance to talk to David during the shift. Just when she was going to take a break, Rick, one of the paramedics, brought in a young man.

‘His name’s Gary—I couldn’t get a second name out of his mates. Collapsed in the middle of a nightclub. His mates say it’s drink.’

‘But you don’t think so?’

‘Nope.’ Rick ran through the usual handover, noting Gary’s pulse, breathing rate and his GCS, or Glasgow coma scale, level, which told Holly how the patient was reacting to stimulation. ‘He’s been drifting in and out of consciousness on the way here. His mates are waiting outside. Want me to send one of them in to see if you can prise anything out of them?’

‘Please.’ Holly smiled at him. ‘Thanks, Rick.’

‘Any time, sugar.’

She turned to her patient. ‘Hello, Gary. My name’s Holly. Do you know where you are?’

The young man looked confused. ‘Dunno. Head hurts.’

‘You’re in London City General. I’m just going to check you over, OK?’

His pulse was way too fast. She shone a torch into his eyes and discovered that his pupils were dilated. He was sweating and a quick examination showed her that he had increased muscle tone. So he must have taken amphetamines of some sort. ‘Gary? What did you take tonight?’

‘Nothing.’ Gary leaned over the side of the bed and was promptly sick.

Before Holly could reach for a kidney dish to catch the vomit, a hand had already pushed one under Gary’s chin. ‘Here you go, mate.’

She winked at Rick. ‘Just in time. Thanks.’

‘Pleasure. I’ve brought Gary’s friend in to have a word with you.’

‘I’m Holly Jones, the registrar,’ she said. The young man looked so nervous that she didn’t ask him his name in case it made him bolt. It was more important to find out more about her patient. ‘Can you tell me a bit more about Gary?’

‘He just collapsed.’

Holly nodded. ‘Has he taken anything?’

‘No. Just drink.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Look, I’m not here to lecture you. I’m not going to grass you up to the police or anything like that. I just need to know what he’s taken so I can treat him properly.’ She spread her hands. ‘I’ve seen enough drunks in my time here to know when someone’s drunk. Gary doesn’t smell of booze. What did he take?’

‘He hasn’t taken nothing.’